King's Cross
by SilverGate555
Summary: What if it's time to go to Hogwarts—but you don't feel ready to leave home just yet? Short one shot.


I stared gloomily at the brick wall in front of me, my hands tightening on the handle of my leather suitcase. People walked pass me, the expressions on the younger ones' faces full of eagerness and excitement while it was the adults that had solemn expressions, usually with a wistful sadness. It was a cold autumn day, especially cold, and everybody was bundled in a coat or two. Soon the splendid train would arrive, and most of the children would whisk off to a land of fantasy. Myself included.

Only, I didn't want to go.

I didn't want to go away from home, just yet. I wanted to _stay_ , with my mother and father, with my newly born younger sister. I didn't want to live months under another roof, cast away and forgotten by my parents and surrounded by mysterious strangers. I would rather stay with my "Muggle" friends at my ordinary "Muggle" school, or whatever the wizards call it. Personally, I didn't care. I told myself that I wasn't going to be whisked away for my first year at Hogwarts, and that was that.

So, leaning against the brick wall, and coldly eyeing the passerby, I decided to make a plan.

I wouldn't go on that train, first of all.

That was the easy part. I wasn't sure what to do next. I couldn't turn in back to my parents right after I missed the train. They would try to get me back. See, they said it was some big kind of tradition, to be at Hogwarts, and that it was a first class education and I would love it, because all the people love it. I didn't believe them, because it just sounded so cruel, to force children away from their parents. I figured that I didn't need that kind of "first class education," no matter what other people say.

So I decided on something else—I go missing for a while, then return home. By then, hopefully, it'll be so late my parents won't think about sending me to Hogwarts, since I've already missed so much. I ran through the plan, over and over, in my mind. There was a nagging feeling in my stomach, like something was wrong. But I tried to push the feeling away. I had no other plan in mind.

 _Besides,_ I told myself, _it'll be great! No authority for...about a week! It won't be that bad!_

Even my eleven year old brain wasn't convinced of the idea, but I decided to set off for it anyway. I took a quick glance at my parents—they were talking to another group of parents in the distance, laughing.

 _They've already stopped caring about me_ , I thought bitterly, as I turned my back to them and walked away.

I suddenly became conscious of the passerby, the blurs of colors and sounds around me. I quickened my pace. I felt self-conscious, as though everybody's eyes were focused on me. I was about to turn back to my parents, to see if they noticed I was missing, but I thought better of the idea and kept my head set forward. I rushed towards the transition between the platforms, about to step in—

— _Crash!_

I gasped and backed away. A girl was in front of me, her bushy black hair framing her face as she kneeled down in front of me to retrieve her book bag. She was about my age, though when she stood up I saw that she was somewhat taller.

"Geez, you were in a hurry," she said, though not unpleasantly. She looked at me in curiosity.

I muttered an apology as I started to walk away, hoping that her gaze was prying away but feeling that it wasn't. Then a tap at my shoulder, and she was behind me, holding something of mine.

"You dropped this ink bottle," she said. "Good thing it's plastic, right?"

I forced a small laugh and took the ink bottle, its dark blue ink whirling around cryptically inside the jar. I had to pause, leaning against the brick wall again to place the bottle back inside my schoolbag—I made a few fervent glances back at my parents again, and they were still conversing. My resolve solidified at that observation, though my fingers fumbled more with my schoolbag.

The girl was still there, her green eyes bright in the sunlight. She gave me a small smile when our gazes met. "So...are you ready for Hogwarts?"

I froze. The first thing I thought was, _Am I really that transparent?_

But then I realized that she was just making small talk, so I forced a thin smile on my face. "Um...I guess."

I paused, waiting for her response. When I was met by silence I turned my attention back to my bag and the ink bottle I was trying to shelter back up.

She was looking at me expectantly, but when she realized that I wasn't about to say more, she simply said, "Me, I'm nervous about it."

It was blunt, and sincerely honest. As I stumbled with my schoolbag's many pockets, I had to pause and look into her face again. She was looking at my own face intently as she continued on.

"I hope I get into Ravenclaw, like the rest of my family, but what if I get into Hufflepuff? Or some other house? It'll be awful, don't you think?"

"I don't really care where I get into," I said. I kept quiet the next thought that came to mind: _Because I don't even want to be there._

"Really? Well, that's great for you, I guess." She said that casually enough, with no meanness at all. "I think most people do worry. It's nice that you don't. But you know what? Everyone's going to be in the same boat as me, so it's not like we're all different..." She trailed off at the end of that sentence. As though she didn't know what else to say.

I didn't continue out loud her train of thought, because I was thinking about it, really thinking about it.

I finally got my ink bottle in one of the most secure pockets I had. I putted on the schoolbag again, fully hearing all the clamor around me—the fears of the other first-years, and the chiding of the parents. But there was some kind of hopeful spirit in all of them, something I so throughly lacked. I didn't know what it was exactly until I saw the girl I was talking with went back to her friends, her black hair bouncing as she skipped to them. Their small part of the community was near the reach of their parents as they talked with frequent impatient looks at the train tracks. The cages of their owls were at their feet, the wind whipping their hair as passerby passed, all of them part of this large society of wizards and witches.

I slowly turned back to my own parents. They would've noticed I was missing, by then.

I had to get back to them. The Hogwarts Express was about to come.


End file.
